


true that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

by windupclock



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, he's not actually dead but you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 14:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18236156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windupclock/pseuds/windupclock
Summary: Margo would give up anything for Eliot.





	true that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

The throne room is silent and still at this time of night. Frozen. If Margo tries, if she closes her eyes against the emptiness of the air, she can pretend that the whole world is frozen. She can pretend that nothing has changed.

That Eliot is still here.

She pulls his shirt tighter around her and walks on, and then she stops in her tracks, because the throne room isn’t empty. There’s a lump of fabric curled up on her throne, quietly sniffling, and unless the castle has been invaded by lazy, very sad conquerors, Fen is under there. Crying.

Margo turns to leave, but Fen’s head pokes up from among the blankets. “Can you stay?” she asks, and her voice is so small and soft Margo can’t bring herself to let her down. She nods.

Fen pulls the blankets aside to let Margo sit next to her, and then rearranges them around her. Margo doesn’t complain. She doesn’t say anything when Fen’s head rests on her shoulder, just wraps her arm around Fen and keeps her close. She isn’t Eliot, but she’s all Fen has right now, and she’s sure as hell not leaving her alone.

She won’t leave any of them alone. Fillory is hers. Hers to protect, hers to keep safe, hers to love. She won’t let it down.

“I miss him,” Fen says quietly.

“I know, honey.” Margo lets her head lean against Fen’s. “I know.”

As much as Margo loves Eliot, and as much as she’s come to love Fen, she’s never fully understood their relationship. She knows they love — they _loved_ each other as fiercely as two people can, but Eliot wasn’t...  he couldn’t love her in the way their marriage asked for. He had this destiny thrust into his hands, complete with the perfect wife he’d never asked for, and Margo had ached for him, but he’d risen so elegantly to the challenge. That was her Eliot. Always braver, always stronger than he knew.

He had grown so much. And now Margo is just supposed to accept that he’s gone. She’s just supposed to be okay with the fact that he’ll never be here to share her throne again. He’ll never touch her cheek and call her _Bambi_ , the stupid nickname he came up with because her big eyes and long legs reminded him of a baby deer. The stupid nickname Margo loves so much.

The stupid nickname Margo will never hear again.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Fen asks, plaintive. “I was born to be his wife, Margo. Who am I now?”

“Hey.” Margo turns to face Fen, lifting her chin up with two fingers. “You are more than his wife, okay? You’re the Queen of Fillory, with or without him, and you know you’ve always got me.”

Fen sniffles, but manages a tiny smile. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Margo rests her head against Fen’s again, as Fen wraps warm arms around Margo’s middle. She feels safe in that moment. She hadn’t thought she’d feel safe ever again since she found out that Eliot was dead.

“I know I wasn’t what he wanted,” Fen says after a moment. “Sometimes I wished we hadn’t gotten married. Not because I didn’t love him, but I knew he couldn’t love me. He couldn’t be happy with me.”

“Fen, sweetie, don’t be stupid.” Margo laughs, soft and empty. “El loved you. He loved you so much. He was so lucky to marry you.”

Fen doesn’t say anything, just sniffles again, her head pressed to Margo’s shoulder. Margo rubs her arm and bites back tears of her own.

What’s the fucking point? She can’t cry out all the sadness ever. She can’t cry out the fact that the other half of her soul isn’t out there anymore. Everything that they’ve been through together, everything that she’s done, everything that she is… how is it supposed to matter, now that he’s gone? How is she supposed to rebuild anything from her broken heart?

“Is this how it felt? When the fairies took your child? Like part of you was gone?” Margo asks, her voice rough with unshed tears. Fen nods her head slightly against Margo’s arm. Margo draws in a shuddering breath. “How did you survive?”

“What other choice do you have?”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Fen. I don’t want any of this without him. I just want him back.”

“That’s not a choice you get to make, Margo,” Fen murmurs. “You just have to keep going. You have to keep doing this. Giving it up won’t bring him back.”

“I would, if it did.”

“I know. Me too.”

Margo closes her eyes for a second. Fen’s quiet, snuffly breathing is the only sound in the room. It feels like they’re the only people in the world. “Did Eliot ever tell you about what happened when we met?”

“During the Trials, right?”

Margo laughs softly. “Big time. We were partnered together, and he kept drinking from his stupid fucking flask, and I couldn’t stand it, so I grabbed it and poured it out on the ground. Three minutes later, I was still pouring, and he just looked at me and asked if he could get it back. I made him teach me the spell. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“What was he like back then?”

“He was… good. He was always brave, even then, he just didn’t know it yet. He was so stubborn and scared, and he hid from everything, but underneath, he was radiant. I didn’t know about any of this, about Fillory, but I knew he was going to be something amazing.” Margo smiles. “He was also an asshole sometimes, don’t get me wrong.”

“That sounds like him.”

“You know, Fen… if he had to get married to a woman, I’m really fucking glad it was you. Not just because you were good for him.” Margo presses a kiss to the top of Fen’s head. “Because you’re good for all of us. You’re good for Fillory. You’re good for me.”

“You're good for Fillory too,” Fen says, sounding like she might start crying again. “And you're good for me, Margo.”

* * *

  
Margo turns to look over her shoulder one last time at her throne room. This might be the last time she ever sees it. The place she’s loved, the power she’s fought so hard to earn. Everything she’s giving up. Everything she’s sacrificing for the chance to get her soulmate back. “Be nice to her!” she shouts, as tears roll down Fen’s cheeks. Margo is crying too, her makeup undoubtedly a fucking mess, her heart smashed into pieces somewhere on the floor of the throne room.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to put it back together, but that doesn’t matter. That can’t matter.

She said she’d give up all of this to get Eliot back, and she meant it.

“Goodbye,” she mouths, catching Fen’s eye. “Good luck.”

Fillory belongs to Fen now.

It isn’t Margo’s anymore.


End file.
